cube
by ShuHagase
Summary: A virtual virus has left the world in danger. And a man is sent inside the virtual realm to find their only hope, not realizing that the line between simulations and reality will be blurred.
1. Chapter 1: Prologue

_**March 2020**_

_**Log # 00457**_

_**-BEGIN-**_

_Recently, during our mandated scans at the servers, we've found a little tidbit that was troubling. There was an isolated piece of data that we couldn't access – and couldn't remove. It wasn't damaging, but we've isolated that data segment, just for security reasons, while we tried to figure out why we couldn't touch it. Maybe it was random code that the kid forgot to manage – we couldn't decipher the software yet, and without that kid, well, things would get a little bothersome._

_**-END-**_

_**Log # 00458**_

_**-BEGIN-**_

_Somehow, the code managed to replicate itself, without setting off warnings within our system. We couldn't isolate it running inside any process, and we still couldn't touch it. It wouldn't let itself be deleted too. Nothing shows up in any log, and I wonder how it got to multiply. Nonetheless, we've expanded the isolation region, and reinforced more security. We still couldn't find the kid anywhere, and he still doesn't show up. Maybe a house visit needed to be enforced?_

_**-END-**_

_**Log # 00459**_

_**-BEGIN-**_

_The code replicated again, but this time, every safeguard we've set-up rattled like crazy. We've labelled that code segment 'malicious', and cut off that segment in the virtual realm. We've moved the isolation region to a bigger scope, and enforced limiters. We still couldn't access it, nor touch it – it was like it had influence over the core processes within the server! I don't know what's going on, but it isn't something good.___

_**-END-**_

_**Log # 00470**_

_**-BEGIN-**_

_The kid's in comatose. Doctors still are dumbfounded of the reason, but they believe it's because of the VR module. We've found the kid, already in coma, with his VR gear still attached to his body. And curiously, he was investigating the same thing. That malicious code turned out to be a small, self-aware world, and we've also known that it was something that self-developed alongside the core VR services. We've posted warnings now, and I just hope that most people heed those warnings._

_**-END-**_

_**Log # 00480 **_

_**-BEGIN-**_

_The casualty count has risen to eighty people now, all having the same condition as that person. The code that we were looking at spawned nasty stuff that we can identify – but couldn't remove. Only through VR could we remove it. We still couldn't probe that region, but we've renamed the condition as 'Blue Cube', named from how the data was viewed through VR – a plain blue cube._

_**-END-**_

_**April 2020**_

_**Log # 00490 **_

_**-BEGIN-**_

_The 'Blue Cube' infection has been identified to hit VR servers primarily, but its effects are destructive. Most people who've had that infection spread to their avatars have been paralyzed in some point. Ten have already died from it, caused by stroke, and medical practitioners have advised that VR be temporarily not used by the mass media. Also, we've identified several key servers running rogue due to the infection. Somehow, this virus was self aware. It was a scary thought._

_**-END-**_

_**Log # 00490 **_

_**-BEGIN-**_

_The 'Blue Cube' infection has been identified to hit VR servers primarily, but its effects are destructive. Most people who've had that infection spread to their avatars have been paralyzed in some point. Ten have already died from it, caused by stroke, and medical practitioners have advised that VR be temporarily not used by the mass media. Also, we've identified several key servers running rogue due to the infection. Somehow, this virus was self aware. It was a scary thought._

_**-END-**_

_**Log # 00495 **_

_**-BEGIN-**_

_It was self-aware. Right at the very beginning. And it threatened to turn everything that it had infected into VR servers that would project its world, and threatened to break down vital lines for communication. The government's taking drastic measures, and they're busy finding a scapegoat to put the blame. The masses are afraid, and most communication's down._

_**-END-**_

_**Log # 00500 **_

_**-BEGIN-**_

_The kid left us a message. We only saw it when we started investigating his disk. For some reason, he wanted us to find him in the digital realm. He also left some protection code, which could be used in VR. So far, it does stop the infection from reaching the computer, but only that. We're going to test it in VR tomorrow. I just hope we won't lose another life tomorrow_

_**-END-**_

_**Log # 00500 **_

_**-BEGIN-**_

_The kid left us a message. We only saw it when we started investigating his disk. For some reason, he wanted us to find him in the digital realm. He also left some protection code, which could be used in VR. So far, it does stop the infection from reaching the computer, but only that. We're going to test it in VR tomorrow. I just hope we won't lose another life tomorrow._

_**-END-**_

_**Log # 00501 **_

_**-BEGIN-**_

_Our tester barely escaped alive. But we knew that the infection had a weakness, it just resided in the virtual world which it made._

_Also, we've found bits and pieces of our kid's avatar – technically his gear – but it led us to the idea that we needed to find him, no matter what._

_**-END-**_

_**Advent Leader presents:**_

_**.cube, a crossover of Familiar of Zero and other random series**_

"Okay Carver, start it up."

_**VSpace V.2.11A Virtual Reality Projection System**_

_**Run params: -mod 0x67; Neuro-link mode enabled, Safe mode, connect to server, load experimental modules, interface using single device**_

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_**Initializing interface…**_

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_**Checking for neurolinks, standby.**_

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_**..**_

_**Neurolink established.**_

_**Control interface detected, syncing with [IDENT_STREAM]**_

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_**Stream synced.**_

_**Loading modules…**_

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_**Modules loaded.**_

_**Connecting to remote environment.**_

_**Link established.**_

_**Welcome, [CPT. JCARVER]**_

"Captain, is there any discomfort that arises when you use the implant?"

"No, doctor. Although sometimes, it does itch, especially when it's humid in the labs."

Furious writing.

"During use, what do you exactly feel with the implant?"

"I feel whatever is allowed for me to feel in the program."

Seat-shifting, then glasses-fixing follows.

"Could you explain that precisely, captain?"

Deep breath, and then…

**Paris, France**

**March 27, 2020, 0100J**

Drinking a lot of vodka did not entail too many benefits, Maj. Francis Neilson knew, but at least it chased away most of his fears at night, for vodka left him in a drunk and knocked out state.

A few years ago, Maj. Neilson, callsign "Mandrake", never feared anything.

That was probably before he got suckered to transfer into USCYBERCOM, and saw the horrors in cyberspace.

So now, from fearless aviator, he became the fearing desk officer, never wanting to go back that experience again. Acting as liaison for USCYBERCOM in NATO, he routinely went to Europe for NATO strategic meetings, usually on high profile incidents regarding the cyberspace.

And right now, a crisis was underway; namely, the 'Blue Cube' infection, which struck the whole internet, particularly on the virtual reality users. Identified as a global threat, it nonetheless was in the debate of many professionals over the world.

Which was why he was here again, in Paris; in a meeting to determine a joint effort to try and minimize the damage done by the 'Blue Cube' infection. _Try and minimize_, being the key terms here, as the 'Blue Cube' infection proved to become a genuine threat not only to the security of NATO member countries, but also to the whole world.

All of these began two weeks ago, when a certain piece of unmovable information appeared everywhere on the servers of many companies. Primarily harmless, it only serve to annoy local network and server administrators.

That was two weeks ago. Now, though, it had been a serious threat, when fifty-two people – including the maker of a known virtual space projection program – ended up in a comatose while looking into the 'Blue Cube' infection from VR perspectives.

Which only made Francis' nightmares worse, being haunted more and more by the events of the past.

The loud beeping of the phone rendered Francis awake, just in time to wake him from his nightmare. Sweating profusely, he jolted up from his bed, and looked around. Checking himself for gashes, he then stood up, and answered the phone.

"Yes?" Francis hoarsely spoke.

"DeMata here. We have another local case of Blue Coma. Meet me at 30 Rue Paris."

"The hospital?"

"Yes, the guy's already there."

**Tokyo, Japan**

**March 27, 2020, 0900J**

For Mr. Mokuba Melroy, it had been sixteen years already since he lost his friend to unknown causes. Already having a job, he still focused some of his efforts into finding his old friend, whom he believed was still alive and kicking.

And for some reason, seeing him – in a dream world filled with magic, still back at his age before he got lost, along with a pink haired girl – didn't help things a lot.

Which was why today, he'd try his luck inside the VR world and regenerate that dream – see if he could find out more about it.

**Genspace.\vspace\r45A\sim**

**March 27, 2020, 0900J**

Underneath the small veil of light that he used to illuminate the dreary landscape that he was in, a man – a kid to be exact – examined his body for wounds, when he saw runic carvings underneath him. Groaning slightly, he tried to stand up – with no success, as a jolt of pain seared through his left leg, and then he remembered that he was scratched by that _thing_ that attacked him earlier.

Realizing that he was stuck unless he treated his wounds first, he pulled his backpack close to him, grabbed the old knife he had, and held it close.

And then he waited for rescue.

**Genspace.\vspace\sim**

**March 27, 2020, 0900J**

The terrain itself was dark. No illumination was available, save for the single light source from Cpt. Carver's helmet. Dozens of warning messages streamed in on his HUD, telling him that the VR space could not be determinable, and that the area he was traversing fully dangerous, but he paid no heed to it. Instead, he focused himself on following a small path that had been rendered near him.

Before, this place was a simulation center inside the cube terrain, and that this place should have many AI programs running around, doing tests and experiments. But now, this place had become desolate and dark. This was one of the first places that had been hit hard by the Blue Cube infection. Remains of the AI programs – their code, floated endlessly inside a simulated zero-G environment, while rogue code lurked in the corners of the data space. Many VR avatar remains also were here – explorers brave enough to know of this terrain, to try their luck in this place, but not equipped enough to handle the threats here.

"Core to Lead, any signs of life out there?"

"Lead here. No other signs of life. Continuing down determined trail."

Although the virtual space had been zero-G, Cpt. Carver had been carrying a small module – a data stream scanner, also known as prog_mod_streamreader, to force the virtual space to display paths around him, creating data tunnels where he could walk safely. Right now, it was his third try at walking through the virtual space, as the previous paths led him to dead ends.

It wasn't long before Carver met actual resistance – in the form of two rogue programs, known colloquially as Dead Guards.

"Core, Dead Guards forward, engaging."

The Dead Guards got their name from their origins – before the infection hit, these we guard programs, regulating memory recovery and disposal. However, when the infection hit, these programs morphed into memory hijack code. They were also the vectors which the infection had spread. But the dangerous thing about them was that they were very hostile.

From the VR perspective, they were shaped differently. You see, from the VR world, they looked a lot like zombified Templar guards in heavy body armor. They fought in close quarters, and were especially deadly.

Which was why Carver opted to shoot them dead from a distance. But his weapon was no consolation to kill – no, neutralize those things.

Hefting the small rifle that he had – prog_mod_tool_kbit32A – or, from a visual representation, the SCAR, and aiming his crosshairs at the code in front of him, he fired his rifle, shattering the silence that had been present. One Dead Guard was caught in the wrong direction, and he careened backward, his body flailing from the force of the impact, before vanishing in a mass of data, leaving only a few key remains – remains that would constitute Blue Cube data.

The other DG, on the other hand, faced him and snarled, before he vanished and showed up an arms distance away from Carver, pointed end of the DG's spear directed at him.

A moment later, the remaining DG was down on the ground, dead from two bullets to its core – its head.

"Moving on, Core."

**Genspace.\vspace\r45A\%F6DF*GD\stream\p\sim**

**March 27, 2020, 1045J**

_**It will begin.**_

"No! It won't happen!"

_**You cannot change it.**_

"I can't but he will!"

_**Their worlds will meet. You will not stop it.**_


	2. Chapter 2: Calling

_**AN: So I haven't exactly placed an author's note last time. I'm also in debt of a disclaimer and such, but I'll take my time off and place one. It's going to be quite short, but you could skip this and go on with the story.**_

_**Of course, drop a review or two while you're at it. **_

_**Also, for those people out there, if you're wondering where the hell are my old stories (My penname before was Dr. Shu Hagase), I've removed most of them, and rewritten them again. After a long hiatus, I've decided to redo all of them, now that I have a lot of free time available.**_

_**So, the story's name is not "cube". It's ".cube" – I wonder what FF does when you put dots at the beginning. It must be some kind of bug or unsupported naming convention – but hey, it's what it is right now. **_

_**What's .cube? It's a story that puts Zero no Tsukaima on another basis – what if that world was real – and accessible via cyberspace? It's also the naming convention for the story – whenever you see a .cube extension, you're actually travelling through cyberspace.**_

_**Many different things will happen here. See, it's the cyberspace that controls the story – a sophisticated pseudo-world made up of terabytes of information, and when you apply processing to it, data evolves on its own, piecing itself together from cobbled bits of information.**_

_**The story will not definitely center on the ZnT cast only. It will, however, tackle how the ZnT world is changed – not just by the vast amounts of other characters present, but also because of the evolving op-code that's tapped into it.**_

_**And so I bring you another chapter (actually, the first chapter) of the .cube world! **_

_**Note: Standard disclaimers apply.**_

* * *

><p><em><strong>2001:0db8:85a3:0000:0000:8a2e:0370:7334[corrupt]/~**_

_**::**_

_**?b64O/g7ihv77VfOY+yMzr2tDpvPX6T9O8mgDgcIy+qhElQnLJOATIWp7x7JKTjN**_

_**NPD5YrbG4pW+n/M2a1krsZnqRA==?64b**_

_**::**_

_**Annotation: ?b640lxj/OaSzrxe/**_

_**::**_

Her story had been told countless times over the world – a magus entirely capable of devastating the field of battle – someone who possessed great skill both when handling her magic, and one who could drive the best of nations to a stalemate. Only one could match her skill on both counts – her master, her tutor, and more importantly, her familiar.

While she could make men topple down not only by her beauty, but by her skill and magic as well, her mentor could do as well. Women swooned over him, but he never minded nor wavered. He was the one who painted hundreds of battlefields drenched in blood,**[corrupt]**, with no distinction against mages or common footmen.

Back in her early and teen ages, the pair was a force to be reckoned with. Wars stopped when they were at the field. Nations would talk once more – never mind the countless swearing nobles and a lot more. Only a select few could fight them head-on – and still survive.

Only once was the pair driven back, but it – along with countless more – was a victory, one that would mark the end of fighting, one that would make the lands calm, but one that would also laud one of them immortalized into a hero.

On that day, he – the Familiar of Zero, **[corrupt]** – brought down his last stand onto the stage of battle, a finale that even the veterans of the encounter would remember with much terror, fear, and cowardice.

And to some, honor.

He died, not minding the many wounds engraved on him, not minding that most of his body was battered and broken, and not minding that he would probably be at the receiving end of an onslaught, a shower that mimicked his own, one that would devastate an army.

He died, with his blades **[corrupt]**, a defiant look in his face – that masked his true intention – to **[corrupt]**; the path that he truly desired – to be **[corrupt]**.

And his wish had finally been granted.

**{ERROR FILE CORRUPT. EXITING}**

[7f307a13c]

* * *

><p><strong>Genspace.\vspace\sim\?stream=64QAS!\<strong>

**March 27, 2020, 1300J**

Captain Carver knew that something was inevitably wrong when he came wandering around the place. The virtual stream that he had found alongside the deleted remains of the two Dead Guards he neutralized was intact, and for that matter, was safe and non-infectious.

He knew that his gut feeling was acting along with him at most times. And this was one time where it had true merit.

He was currently staring at the edge of a cliff, right down into a stream of fragmented data. Bits and pieces of data swirled around an invisible hole, and corrupted data formed on the edges of the hole, some forming into visible forms, others simply turning the data around them into corrupted data as well.

His focus was on the other end of the hole – another data stream that led to an unknown address, which was still within the realm of the connected Internet. The remains of the VR persona of one scientist he had been searching for was here, along with bits and pieces of the said person's psyche.

"Lead, advise testing hole, check for remnants. No determined data stream available – we can't trace the route from over here."

He grunted. He knew, deep in the back of his head, that this was such a bad idea.

"Permission to comment Core?"

"Go ahead."

"You do realize that I'm looking at an unknown data stream, with all the dead data around it, and that it looks like hell from over here?"

"We see your feed Lead. Personally, I think it's fairly safe, and you have your gun with you. Try shooting at it or something."

Carver grunts again.

"Copy Core."

Slowly nearing the pit, Carver bent slightly, procuring his weapon while doing so. When he was a couple of meters away from it, he fired.

And all hell broke loose.

* * *

><p><strong>Valliere Estate, Tristainian Border, Kingdom of Tristain, Halkeginia<strong>

**Six years before the summoning ritual**

Louise Valliere. The youngest scion of the Valliere family, her magic affinity has been, at most, _unique._ While others would show mastery with the magic at early ages, hers only showed up one day when she and her sister, Cattleya, went in the woods. When slavers threatened to take her and her sister – who, at that time, was already afflicted with a grave malaise that severely curtailed her body – it had fallen to Little Louise to defend her sister.

When the slavers had unleashed their hounds, aiming to harm the sisters, Louise, armed with the will to simply protect her sister, fuelled with helplessness into anger, a single wish in her mind: to protect the people she cared about, not caring if she fell or not, unleashed one of her signature blasts – a single aria chant that suddenly became all familiar, empowered by the new entity that had awakened inside her – then compressed into a singular point, a bullet of pressurised air and energy shot point blank to the eyes of the man that reached out with his hounds.

The results had been catastrophic. The man's face was literally vaporized, along with the bits and pieces of the head armor that the man had worn, converted into shrapnel fragmented and so powerful, lancing straight into the hounds, shredding them into tiny bits and pieces. The remaining portions of the man instantaneously froze in air, leaving a broken husk of a human, converted to stone. A pulse of energy swept over the attackers, throwing the surviving slavers through hard wood and out of the sisters' sight.

Cattleya had long fainted during the course of her spell. What she did remember, however, was the sight of her little sister sprouting ethereal wings that draped her and protected her _and__made__her__feel__safe._

When search parties came later, they had seen Louise and Cattleya both unconscious, while the bandits that had tried to come after them were thoroughly dead, save for one, whose life was drained from his eyes, chanting a line spell over and over, as if it were the only thing he had done in his entire life.

The fallout of the event would shape – and change the Valliere family's life forever.

Later that night, Louise would dream. Dream of many things. Dream of things that were yet to come. Dream of the future, the past, what should have been, and what could never have. She would walk and relive the lives of people, from those she knew, to those that she would see. Her mind would be cluttered by images, ideas, faces, and memories distant, foreign, and yet alluringly familiar. She would advance further for her age, maturing almost overnight, for the time spent in Morpheus' realm would be irrevocably longer than real life by an enormous margin.

And she would lose her innocence. At that night, Louise would silently sob in her bed, knowing a future all too clear, a vision all too known, and a single ideal broken and forged once more, by the hands of fate.

The morning that followed, she was talked to [note: interrogated] by her mother, asking her _how__it__happened._And she, with a voice that contained steel in them, would tell her mother about what had transpired, how she had destroyed her foes – and comment on how _weak_ she was, on how she needed to train, to learn and to know.

Karin would take it all, listen to every word that her little one would say, and when Louise did finish, only then did she allow herself to remember her past, a past that would have been all too similar, had it not for the accident that had happened with her two daughters. She saw that Louise, untouched by the world, innocence preserved, grow up to be undermined, her ability never know, her powers locked, and more importantly, lacking the steel and fire that she, Karin, had during the early years of her life. A Louise, broken not because of the harshness of the world, but because of the jeers, the weaknesses and the devaluation her peers, people she knew, but most importantly, from her mother, who would keep her tight, lenient only because Louise lacked the magical aptitude to make it in the world.

And that made her heart wrench inside. In her past, she wanted to become a good mother, one that would be able to raise her children properly with care. When she had matured and married and eventually had children, things changed. Embroiled in a world that constantly fought, knowing too well the inside makings of the scum she constantly had to deal with, steel that had been tempered in her from everything she fought manifested as an ignorance to the needs of her family, constantly clinging to the fact that she trained the well, that she could protect them.

Oh, how she was wrong, very, very wrong. Louise – her Louise – had shown her that. Exposed constantly to the things her mother embodied, she, after being sullied by the forces of fate, changed. Simply changed. Not into what she, in her heart, what wanted Louise would be. A fragile mind fractured into a million pieces, patched up by a few moments of time that she had taken during her slumber. Something fearsome, beastly and horrible – yet at the same time, when tempered carefully, majestic, regal and simply astounding.

She, Duchess Karin Desiree de la Valliere, held the key to her daughter's change, and she saw what she would become without her help, without her guidance, with only her pity moving the child. So she took the other pill, one that would pit her child deeper, not into the hands of despair, but that of grim determination. She vouched to train her child, to help her learn all she had with her magic, and at that moment, the Duchess wasn't Karin, nor was she a noble of great power, nor she the Duchess Valliere, but just a mother, wanting to change a future all too bleak for her youngest one.

* * *

><p><strong>Tristain Academy of Magic, Kingdom of Tristain, Halkeginia<strong>

**One year before the summoning ritual**

She looked around earnestly, with a bright gleam to her eyes. Louise Françoise le Blanc de la Valliere, Void mage (yet known to those who had no sufficient clearance as a triangle fire-earth-wind/air magus) walked around, keeping the large hood on her, while looking around the academy. Around her were many other souls, 'nobles', who by sheer luck made it. No, she wasn't bitter or anything, she only admired the magi for simply _getting__in__the__academy__without__so__much__of__breaking__a__sweat,__abusing__the__power__of__nobility,__claiming__it__as__a__gift__from__above__while__she__insisted__on__being__tested,__prodded__on__and__inalienated__for__a__while__due__to__the__visiting__professor__who__was__testing__her__taking__many__breaks,__attributed__to__a__smoking__habit,__one__that__she__had__grown__to__hate._At least she had proved her talent properly. And in front of a 'beaming' Karin, who was, for some reason, very happy (as much as she looked like) and proud for her daughter.

Her sight-seeing was suddenly interrupted by a blond teen who was wearing an open shirt that expressed much of his machismo. On his side was a small rapier-wand, one that was made of wood and blunt, but nevertheless, pointy, and enough to place actual injury. Drawing up a rose from his right hand, he put it near his mouth, much to her chagrin, and started talking.

"Hello, beautiful lady. My name is Guiche de Gramont, son of General Gramont, esteemed swordsman, and earth mage, and I believe just like you. You seem to be so fair, so why hide your face inside your hood?"

"Do you Gramonts always try to charm women wherever you meet? Not that it matters to me. My name is Louise de la Valliere, and what made you say that I am an earth mage like you? You know little of me," Louise replied, forming her own blade of air directly against the mage's throat, lifting her cloak and revealing the sword that she held, one that signified her as a true Valliere, for the blade that she held was an heirloom, one that had been passed down generation after generation as a mark of station, found from a single hill where a valiant battle took place, the blade regal to the eyes of man.

Guiche gulped nervously. He had been talking to a Valliere? And _the_ Valliere, no less? "Oh…. I-I see. So you were the one that many of the freshmen have been talking about, the only t-t-triangle mage in our class?"

"Gramont, know your place. I, for one, know about your slanderous ways, and let me warn you, I will not be pleased to have you try to woo me and another girl _at__the__same__time_. Is that clear?"

"Y-y-yes. N-now if you would kindly move your blade away from my t-throat?"

"Ah, of course. Sorry about that. Instinct." And with that, she moved her arm down, releasing the coalesced energy she had formed on the pseudo-blade. "Now if you'd kindly excuse me, I'll be going to the ceremony now."

Louise left Guiche, who was still trying to comprehend what had transpired so quickly in a few seconds. In the background, though, they were being watched by eyes that had been of a redhead, one that was current licking her lips upward in anticipation.

"Interesting… So that girl is the Valliere that I had been looking for?" she asked herself, licking her lips in anticipation to what the Valliere girl can do.

divider

Students gathered in the Alviss Hall, where the ceremony of welcoming them was about to start. Many were talking with their companions; some were looking around, while the rest were walking inside the hall, trying to find their places. Louise, on the other hand, was weaving her way past the ground, trying to find a good place where she could simply listen to the ceremony. She found it near two girls, one that had blue hair, the other with red hair. Setting herself down, she then adjusted the hood once more so that it would cover her face, and began to mediate.

The redhead, who had seen her come and plop on the chair along with them, began glancing at her in quite a different manner, almost as if she was checking Louise out.

"It's quite rude to look at people up and down when you first meet them." Louise stated bluntly. "Who might you be?"

"Where I come from, we tend to know whoever we're seated with. My name is Kirche von Zerbst. Hmm, not what I expected from you, Valliere. I honestly thought that you would be a little more… developed than what you are right now."

"Is that it? I never expected you to be like that, Zerbst. I believed that you were capable of more degrading insults, yet you start off with one that would hurt those without station? It seems the Zerbst line is getting more and more weaker and dumber these days." Louise shot back, who still had her eyes closed.

Before Kirche could think of an answer, however, the headmaster came from the 2nd floor, with a full retinue of teachers as well along with him.

"Settle down now, all of you. Today is the day you will begin your journey into becoming nobles, true nobles of your ranks," the headmaster, an old man wearing white robes with a very white and long beard coming down, said. He sported a single, wooded staff, which had been crooked in many place, and a mouse, possibly his familiar, was perched comfortably in his shoulder, sleeping.

Before anyone could continue, however, he simply jumped off the floor, and casted Levitation mid-way his fall, landing softly in front of several students.

Kirche line of thought was interrupted at that point, and when she turned once more to Louise, the girl had actually been smirking!

"Ooh… I'll chalk this one up to you, Valliere. You're lucky that the old geezer came." Kirche seethed. With nothing else to note from her family's rival, she then turned to the girl beside her, looking at her up and down once more. She saw that the girl was reading some kind of book, and like Valliere, she was focused in what she was doing. Instead of having ideas to snatch that book, she simply turned away, noting that Valliere was right beside her and that any action would give Valliere better comebacks.

Inside, she smirked, knowing that at long last, her life would be much better.

* * *

><p><strong>Tristain Academy of Magic, Kingdom of Tristain, Halkeginia<strong>

**Few months before the summoning ritual**

Louise awoke with a start. Slowly checking herself for any kind of injury, she turned to look at her window, and saw that it was still midnight. Grunting, she pulled herself out of her bed and changed, opting for a long skirt and a blouse she'd use for training. Picking up her sword and placing it on her belt, she then walked out of her room, while pondering on the meaning of her dreams.

Usually, her dreams of late were those that depicted battles, battles that probably were yet to come. She would always see herself in those battles, fighting until she would fall defeated. Her allies would constantly change, people she did not see before, yet somehow seemed so familiar; her enemies armies, yet made up of different people. But one thing remained constant: in those dreams, she would see a male having black hair, wearing blue clothes, charging into the midst of the enemy, heedless of the number of arrows, spells, and everything that was sent his way. He would always be there, sometimes as a real being, sometimes simply as a phantom.

He would disappear, and never reappear again, while her heart would wrench itself in pain, pain that she never knew, and then she would be filled with anger, fueling her more and more to fight.

On some occasions, she would see herself survive, amidst the sacrifice of one of her companions. It would vary from one dream to another. Sometimes, it would be a redhead she never knew, fighting alone and falling on that hill alone. Another would be a man in red armor, destroying everything in his sight, taking himself along with him. There were many more, and she had slowly lost track of who they were.

Walking outside and going to the courtyard, she could faintly see what would happen to the academy. Dead bodies would litter the floor, pockmarks would be along the walls, and blood would be smeared everywhere. All because of something so grave that would likely happen in the future.

Reaching the courtyard, she unsheathed her blade and gave it a few swings. She knew what the blade's name was – she knew everything about it, and how it reached their world thru her dreams. She knew that the blade was forged from something entirely different, something that she herself could only utilize fully when she became stronger.

She never knew why it only responded to her. With other people, the blade and its sheath were nothing more than an uncoloured piece of metal. And yet when she held of it, it returned to its normal state, a sword of blue, black and gold.

And yet she would see, even with the blade in her hands, that she would fail and fall once more, failing in her only duty.

Anger welled up inside her, making her swings stronger, faster, and deadlier, but losing its precision slowly. When she realized that she was swinging out in anger, she stopped, sheathing the blade once more, and looking at her hands.

Her magic was quite different than the others. She had to learn every single aspect of her magic from her own self. Assisted with her family, that was the only time where her skills developed, and develop her skills she did. Unlike others, who so relied on their wands, she could cast without a wand proficiently. Unlike others, she could cast spells quicker, most of her spells relying on thought alone to trigger. But she still considered herself weak, for she knew that whatever she had been in her dreams, she still had a long way to go before she could surpass that.

And probably change their futures as well.

Drawing the blade once more, she pointed it skyward, observing the glints of light that reflected from the moons. The blade she held had been bloodied and abused many times from her battles before, and never once did she see imperfections among the blade. Under her hand, many times had it tasted blood, and yet, once she sheathed and unsheathed it, it would be clean. Not that it mattered. What she remembered most about the blade however, was the tales and the power that it had; power to ensure triumph even in the most dire of scenarios.

..And yet she saw herself die every time she held that blade in her dreams, perverting its tale and meaning.

She wondered why it chose her, after so long of being hidden. She was nowhere same with the previous holder of the blade. While the previous owner transcended from legend, she had simply been an unlucky mortal born with the power of a god. While the other was bred from her very conception, she was nothing more than a daughter of a living legend, unnoticed as a scion due to her inability to conform with the present magical system.

_Brimir,why__me?_She would ask herself that question many times over, and yet, she would never find the answer. For no magic could let her provide these, not even her dreams – which told her a lot more than it seemed.

divider

The next morning would see her attend a simple combat class. Along with other classes, it would be a simple spar, a test of mettle and skill against one of the other mages that were with her. On that class, nobody wanted to fight against her, with the exception of Kirche, and the blue haired girl she had been with, named Tabitha. They had been probably afraid of her skill, and everything that they knew would be. On the other class, however, many had been willing to test against her, wanting to know if she really what she seemed she was.

And that was why she was here, in the center of many students, against another, a student named Verrieres de Lorraine. de Lorraine had been born from a noble family in Tristain, who had been well-regarded wind mages. He was one of their year's elite line mages. For Louise, she saw this as a simple test to whether her skill with her faded.

A teacher was amidst them, observing and watching the spar.

"Miss Valliere, I would say that it is quite an honor to be sparring with you, a triangle class mage. Tell me, how did you attain such skill? Is it born with you? Or is it just a hoax as many say?"

And like what her mother would do, she would do this to put the arrogant fop in his place. While jeers, howls and all sorts of noise surrounded her, she had closed her eyes, concentrating on preparing every spell that she would probably use in the duel. She spoke only after she had finished, just as when the crowd's noise died down and de Lorraine stated his name.

The instructor, coughed lightly and spoke, silencing everyone. "The spar begins when both of you have introduced to each other."

"I am Verrieres de Lorraine, and my runic name is Sky Winds. I shall be your opponent." After saying those words, he drew his wand, pointing it directly at Louise.

"And my name is Louise de la Valliere, runic name Zero. I shall be your opponent." Opening her eyes, she focused on the arm which de Lorraine used to draw his wand.

At the mention of Zero, everyone, save for a certain few was shocked.

"Hah! Your runic name is actually Zero? This is funny – you, a triangle mage, and your runic name is Zero? What could have possibly – "

Before he could even finish the sentence, his wand arm was violently thrown to the side, along with him. The unseen force threw him a couple of feet off the ground, landing a few feet away. When he recovered however, he saw that he could not pry himself off the ground, as if a force were holding him to it. He looked up, only to see Louise approach him and pry his wand off his fingers.

"Whenever in a duel, even in a spar, never take your focus away from you opponent," she sharply said. "The next moment could lead to your defeat." Dropping the boy's wand to the ground, she walked back to where she was.

The instructor, meanwhile, never moved, simply looking at both students, doing nothing at all.

Hushed words were spread along the crowd that watched, trying to fathom how Louise did that without even drawing her wand, or even casting a word.

de Lorraine stood up unevenly, still weak from the force of the blast. "First of all, you may have cheated," he said smugly. "Your wand was never drawn, and you never chanted a word – "

Again, as if an answer to his question, Louise turned around, drawing his wand directly at him in a single fluid motion, and stopped. When he had his attention, she incanted.

"Explosion."

And de Lorraine was blown a couple of more feet away, this time sliding on the ground a couple more, before slamming on the exterior walls of the academy, ending up with a couple of bruises on his back, and scratches on his arms and face.

The instructor simply stood up, and walked to de Lorraine, checking his condition. Meanwhile Louise sheathed her wand once more, walking back to where she stood.

"de Lorraine had been knocked unconscious. The winner is Valliere." The crowd once again fell silent.

Save for one red-headed girl who clapped, earning the attention of the class.

"My, my, such power! So that's why they had called you Zero." Zerbst spoke out, her face smiling.

"And why would they call her that?" one male student answered back.

"You never looked at the duel, did you? Did you not see that there was nothing, not even wind, that happened to move de Lorraine away, save for the one when she cast a spell?" Zerbst asked.

"Nothing at all." Tabitha added, her eyes now away from the book she had been reading and on Louise.

"Exactly! It would be wonderful to spar with you, Louise!" Kirche said joyously.

At this, Louise simply faced Kirche and said, "Back at you, von Zerbst. Shall we begin this now?"

"My, my, very eager of you Louise. You are quite more fitting to have my runic name than that of yours." Kirche teased back, moving away from the crowd and standing firm.

Louise, on the other hand, walked right back, standing in front of Kirche.

"So, do we begin?"

"On you, von Zerbst."

"My, you should start calling me Kirche." Moving slightly outward, she then drew her wand and casted quickly, bringing up a wall of fire, while dashing left. Louise, on the other hand, stood still, opting to open left hand, while readying her right to unsheathe her wand.

Kirche on the other hand, had better ideas. She casted multiple fireballs from her wand, going skyward and the dropping down to Louise. Exactly after, she threw a fireball from behind the wall of fire she created, directly at Louise.

Louise stood still, and for a moment, the crowd thought that the fireballs would hit.

Which did not, as Louise drew her wand, and pointing at a space in front, incanted, "Explosion".

All the fireballs dissipated mid-air, along with a sizable part of the wall of fire, and then from the intact part of the wall, a gout of flame burst outward, intent on heading to Louise.

She moved to the left, then leaped forward to the source of flame. She did get there, and then, without any notice, grabbed Kirche's wand-arm, then released it, just as when Kirche had adjusted her flames to accommodate Louise's new position. Retreating quickly, muttering another Explosion, she then incanted another word. "Disrupt."

And Kirche felt her wand be blown away from her hand with force, throwing it high in the air, landing in front of Louise.

"This one ends in a draw." The instructor, coming back, told both of them.

At that, Kirche smiled silently, while Louise moved to pick up her opponent's wand to give it to her.

"Now that is what I expected from a von Zerbst," Louise said, her voice quite jovial.

"Is that you actually praising your rival? Brimir, did your parents teach you to become like that? Now I actually think that you're quite different than what I've expected."

"As people say, keep your friends close and your enemies closer." Louise replied to Kirche, who had already recovered her wand.

"Oh… So that's why!" Kirche said. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind, _rival._" Kirche affirmed, and both of them chuckled, much to the confusion of the surrounding students.

* * *

><p><strong>fda1:a734:719a:2bb9:abd1:a641:a881:d3da\vspace\sim\<strong>

**March 27, 2020, 1330J**

Amidst an island of pure data, there was a mass of unconsumed, nearly perfect data which had been untouched by the course of time. Made from the remains of the DNA of a single man, who, through time, had made an impact to the continuing grace of mankind, said data had been growing since the day of its inception into the cyber-space. Over time, using processing cycles not of its own, it had collected the pieces of itself, pieces which also spawned into the world unknowingly.

What had it been collecting? Memories. Memories carved from the blood of a man, a man who stood to safeguard the individuality and freedom of men amidst the tides of control and power. He had been working as the darkness which distinguished the world from light, and a conduit to many things that should have come. He was a man who had been living a life of one who takes others – and that had been the only life that he had ever known.

His actions reshaped and pushed a brotherhood once more into their intended cause, and his life became a guiding light, a tome of knowledge to his ancestors.

When he had finally released himself from the world, he did so with little regret, an old man who had exhausted his life following and completing that path drawn out in his life, leaving his legacy a tale for many years to pass.

It is these tales, the tales which described the life of that man in perfect blueprint, that had allowed the cyberspace to 'reform' an instance of the person, an instance and a program, that perfectly mimicked the man himself, that would make the man alive once more inside the cyberspace.

But the man would be a spectre, a shadow of a person, which contained many flaws, flaws that can never be resolved by any processing logic, for it required true chaos – chaos that influences others by chance, not only by certainty – to truly function.

Which, the cyberspace was readily willing to give away, in the form of a flood which would encompass the island, swallowing every ounce of information residing in it, taking away the compilation of a man – the Guardian – and bringing it into another place, another place where it would be needed.

* * *

><p><strong>fda1:a734:719a:2bb9:dc31:cccc:fd1a:b4a0\vspace\sim\<strong>

**March 27, 2020, 1345J**

The wide deserts represented a data mine protected with many guard algorithms that the world had never developed, only changing on its own due to the information that it had protected. While in hypothetical reality, the heat could be toned down by any AI/VR traveller, a man whose entire existence had been embedded into the world of cyberspace had no such luxury. The man was already tired; his throat parched by the intense heat, his clothes already tattered by the desert winds, and his very soul nearly gone.

But not the man's resolve, for it was the only thing that drove the man to seek the very end of the seemingly unending sea of sands, for this was his task, a task which would finally give him the eternal peace that he been coveted for so long in time. His burdens had been too heavy, losing a lot just so he could maintain the very peace that had existed in his time, dying and being forever remembered a demon to help wash away the mistakes of those he loved, and finally succumbing to eternal solitude, for he could not die, yet he could not go with time, for it would fracture the plan that he had laboriously built. Even the girl, who he deemed a companion for eternity had been gone, killed by those who would rather see him once again, those who relished in the chaos that he had once instigated for the sake of the world and also for the smile that he greatly treasure.

And yet this time he was not alone. Another man, this time a young man, along with another girl, a girl of fiery hair, had also walked with him. The couple had endured many trials, trials that would leave lesser men and women insane.

..Which at some point in time, they had become, for in their time, they were the only two humans left on the world. Both of them, before the event which left them behind, were living in lives controlled by many, puppets by men who schemed to many heights, men who aspired power beyond the actual capacity of a human, to lord and rule over fellow man who they had deemed lesser; the boy played around by his father, while the girl haunted and destroyed by her very own mother. The young male would be witness to many inhumanities that would happen – and that he himself would be always powerless on those times. He would be plagued by a sense of false hope, and his heart thoroughly broken just before he wished the world to end.

The girl, on the other hand, would seemingly fair better, but like with the strongest of materials, she would also shatter. Her life had always been one of strength, strength that she herself wanted to fight for, strength so that she could protect herself, not knowing that it would eternally become her weakness. She would despise not herself, but the weakness that she never wanted to show, the vulnerability her mother had left her with.

Both of them were in different fates, and yet they were brought together by a master puppeteer's plan, a plan which capitalized on these glaring faults of both children. Which, in turn, would only fail, because the wretched one had not taken into account his own creation: one that would be forged from the interactions of the both children, and that through those interactions, she would reawaken a self that she truly had been, offering a third, no a fourth choice for the destiny of man.

When they had reunited, the man and woman, Adam and Eve of their era, had been thrown to conflict, past wounds being reopened, and yet Fate had played around with them, until finally, they had become one. Their story, a story that had been seen and heard by the deities of their time, had let humanity return once more to the Earth that they resided in, at the cost of the two, living on over time with their successors and the stories and tales that described them.

The two were not gone, rather, they were thrown to this place, with a purpose written on the back on their minds, a promise of return and repair to their era, a mend to their broken selves, and a chance to finally be at the peace that they had wanted.

Irony had placed these three people: the Amazon, the Prince, and the Porcupine, to travel along this same road, together, knowing that at the end of all of this, the two parties would be separated once more, not realizing that the separation, in the end would prove painful for them.

* * *

><p><strong>fda1:a734:719a:2bb9:acde:e001:face:127a\vspace\sim\<strong>

**March 27, 2020, 1345J**

Two men sat in silence, darkness surrounding them, the only light illuminating them coming from their own selves. They were wearing different things, one wearing something looking like the muscles of the human body, while the other person had been powered with the armor named from the weapon of a god, which, true to its name, was definitely something given by the heavens as a gift and as a weapon to fight both man and xeno.

Both, in their times, were embroiled in a bitter war that had claimed many, wars that were vicious enough to rob millions, even trillions, no, even plant-wide deaths of people, whether they had been human or other species.

Both of them, while heroes in their own might, had perished in the end, fighting for a cause that was noble, yet vastly hopeless. Both had carried and wielded different weapons, weapons that dished out death and destruction to those who had come with them. Yet they were vastly different, different because of the armor they wore.

One man had the armor on because it was the only thing that supported his life. Pulled into a fate not of his own by a man desperate of saving the planet and his own, he was roped into a different war – one that left him in the middle while bolts of ice and lead lanced near or even through him because of two, no three, no, four vastly different sides trying to win and determine the fate of mankind. In the end, he was a dead man walking – but that did not deter him to trying to regain his old life back, much to his own chagrin that he could truly not, always telling and deluding himself into a false sense of hope, that the damage to him was repairable – that he could be free of the responsibility that he had.

The other was a man who fought for duty – because it had been the only life he had ever known. A prominent warrior in the war between human and xeno, his role was suddenly changed when he had been pulled into the role of saving the existence of man and xeno alike, for there was a parasite which had wanted to destroy and consume all, not recognizing between and race, for in the parasite's mind, only two sides existed: them and us. Considered a war hero by many, nonetheless, the hero had been lost, on his final mission, his people not knowing where he had fallen, only knowing that he had saved them, and those stories and accounts of the people that he interacted with would serve as a beacon of hope for man and xeno. Time would do little to erode his tale, for like warriors of the past, he would be immortalized as one of the valiant knights that defended humanity, just like what his namesake had become.

These two warriors, the Greek and the Symbiote, would be trapped in this continuum, until a certain event would call them back to the frontlines once more.

* * *

><p><strong>Tristain Academy of Magic, Kingdom of Tristain, Halkeginia<strong>

**Summoning Ritual**

"Is there anyone else who has not summoned?" Mr. Colbert, resident fire mage, asked the crowd of students. "Aside from Ms. Valliere, that is."

Tabitha raised her hand, and then moved forward. Without so much incantation, she raised her wand up high, and conjured a summoning circle. A few moments later, a bright light emanated from the circle, dying immediately to reveal a blue dragon, one that had intently looked at Tabitha, and immediately came close to her, acting as if it were snuggling her. Tabitha complied, and then, tapping lightly on the head of the dragon, she bound it to her, marking the dragon as her familiar. With her summoning, she stepped back, letting the dragon lead her back into the crowd as possible.

Louise took deep breaths. While, for others, it was a ritual that signified the coming of age, this event was the one that Louise had prepared for – an instance in time where her path would be marked, either as a definite Void mage, or as a new kind of mage, something unfamiliar to their civilization. She was nervous, for this event had repeatedly become shown in her mind, in her dreams, and even when she was awake in their world.

Colbert nodded his head, indicating that it was her turn. Without much ado, Louise stepped forward, drawing the sword that she had, and then chanting slightly, cast a spell on the entirety of the open field that they were in. An immaterial dome covered the space that she was in, her visible to everyone, but untouchable – she would use this as precaution if anything would probably happen.

Closing her eyes, and concentration on the depths of her soul, Louise began incanting a spell from her memory, a spell distant yet familiar, a spell that she had never known, yet had been embedded in her mind the entire time.

**Nothing given, nothing gained, and nothing lost.**

Guiche shifted, feeling uncomfortable when Verdandi quickly snuggled up his leg, as if she were afraid of something.

**Origin of all, gate-keeper of Time. Recognize the blood of your Creator.**

Most of the familiars became uneasy with what the field was.

**Open once more the conduits locked. Sever your thread that binds.**

Colbert sensed it – a sudden spike of magic, a spike that would signal him to start up an old spell in his sleeve.

**My Command, be heard. My voice, be followed.**

Tabitha and Kirche felt it as well. This was unnatural magic. Magic that transcended even their own. They stepped back, knowing the dangers associated with this.

**Remember my oath, my life, and my very yearning.**

Louise felt herself lose control, as the other entity inside her took control. She complied, retreating slightly back into her own mind, wanting to let the entity change her future.

**From the Emptiness that I hold, answer my call, the one I had lost.**

Everyone noticed the sky darkening for a moment. And then, a piercing light came from the circle that Louise had made.

"Everyone, stay back!" Colbert shouted, and then the students retreated, leaving Colbert free to cast a precaution – an explosive mix of air – around the field Louise had made.

**Arrive in this time, without regrets, without intent – **

Runes became visible from the air around the field – runes that were both foreign and known to Colbert. Lines drew themselves from the ground, forming a larger summoning circle. Symbols etched themselves onto the growing circle, symbols familiar yet different and vague to the knowledge of everyone gathered.

**With only the Destiny and the Memories of your Past.**

Louise buried the blade to the ground, and then another circle reformed in front of her, this time a smaller circle. Stepping back for a moment, Louise felt a familiar presence forming in front of her, someone who she always saw in her dreams.

And then the field, along with the runes vanished. The sky cleared, and a strong wind had cleared away the fog that Colbert had readied. In front of the entire crowd, an armored man had shown himself.

His armor was a mixture of the colors white and blue, marred slightly by the dual blades that he held in his hands. His blades were foreign, one blocky and had been colored red, while the other held similarities to a saber, and had the color blue in its guard. He was quite tall, and he had been in a kneeling position, blades both at the ready, when he materialized.

"I answer to your call, mage. Are you my summoner?" The man asked, his head bowed.

"Yes, I am. Will you accept my contract, one that will bind you to me, one that will make you as my familiar, in exchanged for bringing you here?" Louise had asked, a voice entirely her own, but somewhat different, as if it was not her that had talked. A voice full of longing, a voice of hope, and a voice of a lover.

_That voice…_

With one motion, the man – the Knight – sheathed both his blades, and then relaxed. A smile graced his face once more, that of a man who had finally found his way.

"Yes, I accept your contract."

"Very well then. Pentagon of the Five Elements, make this man, who swore himself under oath, my familiar." Reaching out to him, and grasping lightly the man's cheeks, she moved and kissed him, not a simple and chaste kiss, but that of lovers, of people who met before in the distant past, and separated by millennia.

And at that moment, unseen by many all over Halkeginia, portals opened, revealing the Prince, the Greek, the Porcupine, the Amazon, the Symbiote, the Guardian, and the Sword, expelling them violently.

* * *

><p><strong>Outskirts of Tristain Academy of Magic, Kingdom of Tristain, Halkeginia<strong>

**Moments after the Summoning Ritual**

A man, covered in soot and wounds, walked out from behind a tree, muttering the words 'where am I', before succumbing to unconsciousness, not knowing that he was inexplicably pulled into a world not of his own, a world where he would find the thing that he had been hunting for, and that he would be a catalyst to a fate that would eventually become the condition for which both of his worlds would be saved.


End file.
